


Comfy, Cozy

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sick!Dean, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:53:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is sick and Sam's favorite sweater is missing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfy, Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> Based of on this gifset with tags (http://bifca.tumblr.com/post/32475400805/sorry-but-i-just-have-this-image-of-dean-wearing)
> 
> Thanks to my beta bubblegum-queen

Sam let out a frustrated huff when he couldn’t find his favorite sweatshirt. He had emptied out his duffel bag and searched the entire room, but it was nowhere to be found. He walked towards the beds, intending to ask Dean if he had seen it and stopped short.

His big brother was curled on one of the beds in Sam’s sweatshirt, wads of tissues scattered about and his brow furrowed. He let out a cough in his sleep that racked through his whole body and Sam winced at how painful it sounded. He laid his hand on Dean’s forehead, a worried expression overtaking his features when he realized how high Dean’s temperature was. He didn’t know why Dean insisted on stealing his sweatshirts whenever he felt sick, but he knew he wasn’t getting it back until he felt better.

“Sammy?” Dean croaked out and Jesus he sounded horrible. And for him not to notice when someone was in the room and who it was? He was definitely in bad shape.

“Yeah, Dean, it’s me,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry I took your shirt.” Oh he was definitely sick. Probably dying. Dean never apologized.

“It’s okay.”

“They’re just really comfy.” Sam froze. Definitely dying. If, on the off chance he did survive, though, Sam was never letting him live this down.

“It’s okay, Dean,” he said, hesitantly stroking Dean’s hair back from his forehead. Dean nodded, almost to himself and fell back into his light doze.

Sam took quick stock of the rest of Dean and smiled to himself when he realized his brother actually looked kind of adorable, which he would never say out loud because Dean would kill him. Still, Sam’s oversized sweatshirt dwarfed Dean even though he’s a fairly large guy, with his fingertips barely poking out of the sleeves and the shirt going down past his hips.

Instead of trying to get it back, he stood and dug around their bags for medicine. He came back with that and a glass of water and gently shook Dean. Dean blinked up at him sleepily and then looked down at the pills Sam was wordlessly holding out.

“Don’t need ‘em.”

“Yes you do. Come on, Dean.”

“Fine. But I don’t like it,” he added petulantly. He was simultaneously enjoying sick Dean and getting even more worried. Healthy Dean was never this cooperative. He helped Dean up to take the pills and then lay back down. Dean curled up again, so Sam pulled the covers at the end of the bed over Dean. He let out a contented sigh at the added warmth.

“Thanks, Sammy, you’re the best.”

Oh he was definitely never going to let him live this down.


End file.
